


Wishing For More

by fightforyourwrite



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Artist Jean Kirstein, Canon Compliant, Charcoal, Drawing, F/M, Hugs, Post-Time Skip, Protective Mikasa Ackerman, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 00:19:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11680089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fightforyourwrite/pseuds/fightforyourwrite
Summary: She sees the scars on his body when they're alone.





	Wishing For More

**Author's Note:**

> Slight manga spoilers. If you don't know what goes on in the Return to Shiganshina Arc, you might not want to read this.

She sees the scars on his body when they’re alone.

Jean sits on the floor, keeping himself hunched in front of a low table. He immerses himself into his work, dragging his sticks of charcoal over the page of his sketchbook with steady hand.

His fingertips have turned a dusty black shade. There’s a disjointed look on his face, a look that expresses all the incoherent ideas spinning around in his head.

Mikasa lounges on the bed, resting easily as she watches him work. She is comforted and hugged by both the scratchy texture of the sheets and the soft material of Jean’s favourite shirt. She lies on her back, her head turned to the side, her eyes focused on him.

She can’t help but notice the blemishes on his bare torso, the discoloured lines and marks scattered across his shoulders and chest.

Curiously, Mikasa steps off the bed and takes a barefoot walk across the floor. There’s a short stretch of distance between him and her.

She kneels down behind Jean and places her hands on his shoulders; she drags one hand down to let her fingers run across his scars.

There are dark scuffs dispersed over his skin, thin marks placed on top of his natural tone.

“I remember these,” Mikasa recalls. She runs her fingers across some scars on his back and imagines that she will feel a ridge or bump when she touches it, but all she gets is smooth skin.

“Yeah, I guess you would,” Jean agrees. He stops drawing for a moment and turns his head back to her, “You were the one who wrapped me up.”

“You’ve healed well,” Mikasa adds.

Her hands return to his shoulders. She moves them slowly, sliding them down until her arms wrap affectionately around his neck.

From behind, Mikasa rests her chin on Jean’s shoulder and gets a look at whatever it is that Jean is drawing.

Things appear more abstract than they usually do; deep and dark lines, light hatching, messy smudging, all organized together to create the image of whatever Jean sees in his brain.

Mikasa forgets how happy Jean gets when he draws. It seems to be the only time in his day where he can truly be himself.

“Can you believe that day was over four years ago?” Mikasa asks absentmindedly.

Jean gets back to work on his drawing. He grabs a thick stick of charcoal and starts shading in a part of the page.

He nods his head as he focuses on shading in the corners of the pages, “I can.”

“A lot has changed since then,” Mikasa adds.

“That it has,” Jean responds. He takes his free hand and places it on Mikasa’s left arm.

She moves her finger until it touches the left side of Jean’s torso, where he had taken most of the damage from a blast of debris.

The skin there is uneven, coarse and irregular. It’s not hard to know why.

Mikasa can remember witnessing Jean pull a chunk of wood out of his shoulder all those years ago. While it was not the safest thing to do, they did not have medics on duty to help him that day, and no one knew if they were even going to make it back to the Walls in time to properly patch him up.

Sometimes, Mikasa forgets how human Jean is.

He draws in his spare time because he loves it, he writes letters to his mother when he’s homesick, he hums an old lullaby to himself on nights where he can’t sleep.

When he gets injured, his pain writes itself into his skin in thin lines and dark marks.

Mikasa has witnessed her two childhood friends get ripped apart and much more. The difference between her and them is that they have the ability to heal. She’s seen Eren lose entire limbs and can recall the image of Armin’s skin having been incinerated off his body. They can heal, they can survive.

They don’t scar, but Jean and her do.

There are more marks on him than there are on her.

Mikasa has a thin scar on her cheek and just a few on her legs. Jean has a whole abstract arrangement of dark lines across his body.

He’s human and that may be the saddest thing about him.

Humans are fragile. They cannot withstand a certain amount of stress. They fall, they stumble, and their shortcomings leave them marked.

Mikasa sighs and hugs Jean closer to her. She can feel her mind tensing up as her thoughts intrude upon what should be a happy moment. She shouldn’t ruin what little time they could have together.

Wishing for more was nothing but an empty dream.

Because when she’s with Jean, she doesn’t have to be a soldier.

She just has to be her; Mikasa Ackerman, nineteen years old, first and only daughter of Asher and Mako Ackerman, human being, nothing more.

**Author's Note:**

> Mikasa's parents don't have names, so I gave them some.
> 
> With Mikasa's father though, I purposely gave him a Hebrew name on purpose. I did it to imitate Levi, since he has a Hebrew name as well. 
> 
> Maybe there's a big connection between all Ackermans, or I just really liked the way 'Asher Ackerman' sounds. Who knows at this point?


End file.
